


taste you on the tip of my tongue

by amaanogawa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: /thumbs up emoji, Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dorks in Love, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, struggling through writer's block by writing about dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 01:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaanogawa/pseuds/amaanogawa
Summary: "All he knows is that when he buried his hands into the soft material of Kuroo’s hoodie and yanked him forwards, Kuroo fell against him so much easier than Daichi could ever have imagined."





	taste you on the tip of my tongue

Daichi doesn’t know how he got to be here.  
  
Maybe it was the ambient lighting of his apartment hallway, casting the softest of shadows over Kuroo’s usually angular face.

Maybe it was Kuroo’s Cheshire smirk, igniting embers in the pit of Daichi’s stomach as it always seems to do, flames licking up into Daichi’s chest that he’s always trying to extinguish under the pretense of _friendship_ or _platonic comradery_.

Maybe it was the significant amount of beer in his system, dulling his inhibitions and pulling down the guard that he typically wears around Kuroo.

All he knows is that when he buried his hands into the soft material of Kuroo’s hoodie and yanked him forwards, Kuroo fell against him so much easier than Daichi could ever have imagined.  
  
Kuroo’s lips are pliant against his own, tasting of the whiskey shots he no doubt got dared into by Bokuto earlier that night, and he smells like smoke because he had been hanging out with the crowd smoking cigarettes out by the pool. Daichi wrinkles his nose at the odour and figures that it’s more than enough of an excuse to rid Kuroo of his hoodie right quick. When he slides his hands under the hem of Kuroo’s hoodie, Kuroo licks against the seam of Daichi’s mouth, pressing Daichi against the wall and slotting a thigh between Daichi’s legs.  
  
“Off.” Daichi whispers against Kuroo’s lips, tugging at the hoodie. Kuroo lifts his arms without a word, allowing Daichi to pull the sweater over his head, fluffing out his unruly hair even more. Daichi tosses it to the floor and replaces his hands at the curve of Kuroo’s waist, sliding them under Kuroo’s t-shirt. As he traces the jut of Kuroo’s hips under his fingertips, Daichi is thinking about how it’s 25 degrees outside and Kuroo has no business to be wearing this many layers because it’s all such a _nuisance_ right now, and yet somehow Kuroo’s fingers are _still_ cold where they’re wrapped around the nape of Daichi’s neck. These small details fuel the nagging voice at the back of Daichi’s mind.  
  
_Don’t do this_ , it says.  
  
_It’s Kuroo_ , it insists.  
  
It _is_ Kuroo, who is perpetually cold and quick witted and downright infuriating at times. It’s Kuroo, who takes his coffee with three milks and three sugars and makes possibly the best nachos known to man. It’s Kuroo, who helped Daichi wash his hair after he broke his collarbone first year. It’s _Kuroo_ , who Daichi has been stupidly in love with for well over two years now and yet, has never let himself admit it.  
  
_Fuck it_. Is the last decidedly un-Daichi-like thought that passes through his brain before he reaches out to feel for the door handle to his room, pushing it open and tugging Kuroo through with him. They stumble through the darkness of his room before the backs of his knees hit the bed and he goes toppling backwards, Kuroo with him, and this is possibly his last chance to regret his actions and salvage his friendship with Kuroo without things becoming incredibly awkward in the morning when they’re both sober.

But he realizes that he doesn’t want to stop, because surprisingly, or maybe not surprising at all, having Kuroo’s lips feather-light and hot against his neck feels _right_. So he pushes himself up onto his elbows, shuffling backwards until his body is fully on the bed. This is the first time that Kuroo hesitates to follow. He’s half-kneeling on the bed just out of Daichi’s reach, golden eyes burning intense in the moonlight that’s filtering through Daichi’s bedroom window.  
  
“Daichi.” He says, suddenly looking apprehensive. “We’re both drunk.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Are you- do you-”  
  
Daichi stares straight into Kuroo’s eyes, feels the unfiltered _want_ pure and simple, and speaks without flinching.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
A certain decisiveness flutters over Kuroo’s face before he crawls forward, once again fitting his lips over Daichi’s.  
  
“Me too.” He whispers, kissing Daichi again and again with new anticipation. “So much. For so long now.”  
  
“Stop talking.” Daichi seethes, feeling his face heat up. Kuroo’s voice is velvet smooth, stirring up his insides and he wants it to, but at the same time it’s just too much. He feels like his brain is short-circuiting under the weight of Kuroo’s gaze and the desperate grip of Kuroo’s fingertips over his wrists.  
  
“Why?” Kuroo murmurs, shifting so that his thigh is pressing against the hardness between Daichi’s legs. Daichi bites his lip to stifle his moan, but Kuroo hooks his index finger under Daichi’s chin, easing Daichi’s lip out from between his teeth with his thumb. “Don’t do that. Let me hear you.”

Daichi’s mind is muddled, cornered between the booze and the feeling of Kuroo’s tongue dragging down his neck. He closes his lips around Kuroo’s thumb, swirls the tip of his tongue against the roughness of Kuroo’s skin, reveling in the way Kuroo’s other hand tightens noticeably around his wrist.  
  
“Because if you keep running your stupid mouth I might rethink this.” Daichi gasps rather unconvincingly, grinding down on Kuroo’s thigh, to which Kuroo grins and reaches up to tug his t-shirt over his head. Daichi has seen Kuroo shirtless countless times. Hell, he’s even seen Kuroo naked before considering they’re in the same locker room a few times a week. But it has never been like this, or maybe it’s just that Daichi has never allowed himself to look at Kuroo in this way. Kuroo looks nothing short of divine in this moment, and it seems out of place that Daichi is in slight awe of the way the moonlight is making Kuroo’s skin look like it’s nearly glowing, because those kinds of gross romantic sentiments are not only uncharacteristic of him, but also uncharacteristic of drunken nights with your best-friend-slash-secret-one-sided-love.

Kuroo reaches down to tug Daichi’s shirt off of him, and it’s all moving much too slow for Daichi. This is _intimacy_ through and through, gently removing each other’s clothing piece by piece paired with lustful stares at each other’s bodies. It’s possibly the worst type of foreplay for their situation; in the back of Daichi’s mind, he’s thinking about how this intimacy isn’t real. They’re not lovers after all, just two people possibly making poor decisions in the throes of drunken lust. If given the choice, Daichi thinks he would rather ignore the heat pulsing through his veins at the sight of Kuroo gazing down at him with what could almost pass as affection, and simply pretend that this is a product of spontaneity rather than two years worth of unreciprocated feelings.

Tonight, he can shed the responsible, straight-laced Daichi skin that he usually wears.

Tonight, he can be more than Kuroo’s friend.

But probably only for tonight.

Surging upwards, he rolls them over so that he is on top of Kuroo, slinking down the bed and unbuttoning Kuroo’s jeans with clear intent. Now it’s Kuroo who looks like he might be short-circuiting, and Daichi will admit that he feels triumph in his chest for being the reason why Kuroo has lost his bearings. This was the entire foundation of their friendship, after all; it starts and ends with competition, although this time around Daichi thinks he would be entirely fine with Kuroo spending the rest of the night trying to outdo him.

Daichi leans to lick a stripe down Kuroo’s abdomen, keeping eye contact with Kuroo the entire time, before tugging Kuroo’s jeans off and nipping at his protruding hip bone.

“You’re so bony _everywhere_.” Daichi says with a laugh, his voice raspy. Usually Kuroo is always prepared with a sharp comeback to Daichi’s comments, but judging by the furrow in his brow and the way he’s chewing on his bottom lip in impatience, finding a suitable retort might be far down his list of priorities at the moment. Kuroo’s breath hitches as Daichi finally reaches to tug Kuroo’s simple black briefs off of him, freeing him from the uncomfortable tightness. His cock stands red-tipped and pretty against his abdomen, leaking pre-cum and Daichi licks his lips before lowering his head, pressing his mouth to Kuroo’s stomach and scraping his teeth against the tender skin there. He trails down, kissing and nipping and sucking on every spot other than where Kuroo wants it, just close enough so that Kuroo can feel the warmth of Daichi’s breath and yet nothing more than that.

“Daichi-” Kuroo hisses, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Daichi’s short locks. “Daichi, _please_.”

It’s the first time Daichi has seen Kuroo so submissive, heard that kind of need in his voice, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t go straight to his own cock, which is feeling increasingly painful still tight in his jeans. Kuroo is usually the one that’s coy and teasing, with the smirks and the razor sharp gaze, poking and prodding at all of Daichi’s weak spots. But now it’s Daichi in control and it feels undeniably good.

“Please, what?” Daichi finds himself asking, innocently.

“Please,” Kuroo’s fingers are shaking against Daichi’s skin. “Please, touch me.”

Daichi obliges.

He flattens his tongue along the underside of Kuroo’s cock, licks his way to the top and wraps his lips around the tip. Kuroo gasps above him, fingernails leaving crescent moons on the back of Daichi’s neck. Daichi lowers his head, hollowing out his cheeks while he goes, until he feels the tip of Kuroo’s cock bump the back of his throat and his eyes are watering but the way that Kuroo is moaning out strings of curses under his breath is more than enough incentive to continue. He curls his lips over his teeth as a courtesy and starts to bob his head, swirling his tongue at the tip before dipping back down. Kuroo tastes of salt skin on Daichi’s tongue, feels like tension under Daichi’s fingertips, and it’s so gratifying to be the one to take him apart like this. After 4 years of friendship, this is a Kuroo that Daichi doesn’t know. It’s a Kuroo that looks damn near ethereal with his eyes squeezed shut and back arching ever so slightly off the bed, Daichi’s name spilling out from between his lips. 

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to come.” Kuroo pants, hand once again coming back to tangle itself in Daichi’s hair.  
  
Daichi can’t very well speak with his mouth full as it is, but he looks up while he continues his ministrations, brows raised.

_Then, come._

Kuroo groans low as he obeys, a blush forming high on his cheeks as Daichi wrings him dry. Daichi’s given blowjobs before but it’s the first time that he has ever let someone come in his mouth, and the bitter taste that floods his tongue makes him wince. He forces himself to swallow anyway, sitting up on his haunches and wiping his mouth on the back of his arm. Underneath him, Kuroo is looking star struck; the blatant look of amazement on his face makes Daichi feel both bemused and somehow like he’s under scrutiny at the same time.

“Sawamura Daichi.” Kuroo breathes, shaking his head incredulously.

“Yes?”

“You’ve killed me.”

Daichi arches a brow. “So we’re done, then?”

With a growl rumbling low in his throat Kuroo grabs him, flipping them over so that Daichi hits the bed on his back. There’s a gleam in Kuroo’s eyes that promises the best kind of trouble; Daichi is still painfully hard and right now all he wants is Kuroo’s lips back on his- which, thankfully, is exactly what Kuroo does. The alcohol on his breath is making everything just comfortably softer around the edges, soothing his nerves, and maybe that’s why Daichi suddenly feels strangely emotional. Kuroo’s skin is just a shade lighter than his own, his body more angular, lither than Daichi’s, and as Kuroo’s kisses trail lower and lower, Daichi swears his protruding shoulder blades look almost like wings on his back, transformed under the pale moonlight and Daichi’s own overwhelming affection.

_Get it together, Sawamura Daichi._

He blinks. Once. Twice. Kuroo is looking up at him from where he’s kneeling over Daichi’s chest.

“Do you have lube? And condoms?”

“Nightstand drawer.” Daichi’s voice is sandpaper in his throat as he watches Kuroo lean over him, hears the slide and shut of the drawer and then feels the eventual return of Kuroo’s warmth back on his skin. Kuroo makes quick work of Daichi’s jeans, finally, _finally_ , and doesn’t waste much time in wrapping his hand around Daichi’s shaft over his briefs. Kuroo’s touch feels good, pooling pleasure in the pit of Daichi’s stomach, but he wants _more_. He wants all of Kuroo, as much as he can get, but as always Daichi doesn’t have a way to vocalize all the _want_ that’s numbing his brain right now. It’s all he can do to let out a choked whine in the form of Kuroo’s name.

It’s like something has shifted their usual chemistry tonight; opposite to his nature, Daichi has been the one to tease whereas Kuroo is being almost surprisingly straightforward. He shucks Daichi’s briefs off his hips and there’s not so much as a smirk on his face as he leans in to kiss Daichi, his hands still stroking Daichi’s cock, before whispering into his ear.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

Daichi should know better than to let Kuroo order him around like that, but against his better judgement, he finds that he wants to obey. His limbs are shaky as he braces his weight against them, the mattress dipping slightly under him. The snap of hard plastic makes Daichi’s heart swoop in his chest and then there’s Kuroo’s fingers against his entrance, the lube is cold and Kuroo’s fingers are even colder, making Daichi wince.

“Okay, Daichi?”

“ _Yes_ , hurry up.” Daichi breathes, lowering his face into the mattress and deepening the arch to his back. He can hear Kuroo swear under his breath as he presses a finger in. The first finger is always a strange sensation, but it quickly melts into pleasure as Kuroo continues. He feels when Kuroo adds another finger, and the burn is slightly more intense this time, but Kuroo is curling his fingers at different angles- one of which sends sparks down Daichi’s spine and he swears he sees stars behind his eyelids. The moan that comes out of his mouth is embarrassingly desperate. Daichi grits his teeth, feels his ears burning and yet he can’t help but continue to let out choked whimpers as Kuroo presses his fingers against his prostate and massages it thoroughly before pulling out.

“I thought I said to let me hear you?” Kuroo’s voice is breathy behind him as he adds yet another finger, scissoring them and then crooking again right against that spot and Daichi is gone, inhibitions be damned, opening his mouth and letting out a sound he didn’t know he was capable of producing. He wants more, even more than this and Kuroo already has three fingers in his ass so there’s only one option left to him now. “You look so good like this, Daichi.”

“Kuroo-” Daichi hisses, knuckles white where his hands are fisted in his sheets, “Kuroo, enough.”

“Enough of what, hmm?”

It might have been too much to expect that Kuroo would forgo the teasing entirely, Daichi supposes, and normally that sly tone of voice would be enough to garner a frown and maybe a stern look. But right now Daichi’s head is muddled with desire and he barely thinks before he’s opening his mouth to speak, no, _beg_ ,

“ _Just fuck me already_.”

Kuroo clicks his tongue, suddenly moving to swipe the condom off the nightstand with new vigor.

“You’re not supposed to _do_ that.” He hisses, ripping the wrapper open. “It’s like you have no clue-”

There’s an edge to his voice as he speaks, an urgency that Daichi appreciates, and yet when he presses the tip of his cock to Daichi’s entrance he pauses for a brief moment.

“Okay?”

Daichi nods impatiently, and Kuroo groans low as he presses himself in. He’s coated his cock in even more lube still, but he stretches Daichi wider than his fingers did and Daichi feels _full_ , so full that tears inadvertently come to his eyes because he’s thinking about how it’s Kuroo that’s filling him up this way, and it’s everything that Daichi had ever thought it could be.

“God,” Kuroo murmurs, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into Daichi’s hip where his hand is placed. “You feel so good.”

The huskiness of Kuroo’s voice brings a flush to Daichi’s face and he wants to respond with how good Kuroo feels inside of him, but the words are jumbled inside his mouth because saying these kinds of things doesn’t come naturally to him. He wants to tell Kuroo how full he’s feeling, how euphoric, but instead he bites his lip and presses his forehead into the mattress.

“Move.” Daichi whispers after a brief moment, rocking forwards and then back on his knees, fucking himself onto Kuroo’s cock.

Behind him, Kuroo’s breath catches in his chest as he starts to thrust forwards, too gently for what Daichi wants from him but that’s the way Kuroo is- thoughtful and kind, almost overly so, and it’s not until Daichi whines out a plea for _more_ that Kuroo starts fucking him for real. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and Daichi’s cheap bed frame is shaking and creaking so violently that it seems like it might break, but Daichi can’t even bring himself to spare a thought about that right now. He’s being too loud, uncontrolled moans tumbling from his lips as he ruts back against Kuroo, meeting his thrusts as best as he can. With every brush of against that spot he feels the heat building inside of him, making his body quiver and his fingers tighten in his sheets until his knuckles turn white.

“K-Kuroo-” Daichi manages, knees shaking. “Kuroo, ‘m close-”

Kuroo leans over, curls a hand over Daichi’s and wraps the other around Daichi’s cock, pumping it while he fucks into him. It’s too much, all of it, and the pleasure shooting through Daichi’s core peaks as he sees white and comes with Kuroo’s name on his lips.

“ _Shit_.” Kuroo hisses as he follows soon afterwards, movements stuttering to an eventual stop. Daichi collapses against the bed as soon as Kuroo pulls out of him, and after the sound of a tied-off condom hitting the garbage, Kuroo gets back into bed and tugs the covers over the both of them, hesitantly putting his arms around Daichi. It’s a bad idea, probably, because in the morning they will wake up and they will be sober, but right now Daichi finds himself laying his cheek on Kuroo’s chest, feeling very much content to be drifting to sleep with the sound of Kuroo’s heartbeat against his ear.

\---

The shrill sound of Purina’s Meow Mix jingle is not how Daichi likes to wake up early in the morning, much less while sporting a raging hangover and a rather sore ass. Kuroo is groaning beside him, reaching an arm out to slap at his phone- Daichi doesn’t know what button he was trying to press, but what he does know is that Bokuto’s booming voice might possibly, no, _is definitely_ worse to wake up to than even the stupid Meow Mix song.

“Hey hey hey!!” Bokuto yells, his words seemingly shaking the entire room. “Kuroo!! My bro! How did last night go?”

“ _Fuck,_ how did you get on speaker phone.” Kuroo’s voice is muffled where his head is pressed between two of Daichi’s pillows. “What the hell do you want, Bo?”

“I wanted the _deets,_ duh! I saw you head home with Sawamura last night, so did you tell him?”

At this, Daichi raises a brow. Kuroo is suddenly wide awake, judging by how he bolts up and reaches over to grab his phone. He fumbles and it falls onto the covers between them. “Wait, shit, _no_ -”

“Didja say, ‘ _oh, Daichi, I’ve been in love with you and whining about it to everyone around me like a pathetic lovesick kitty for ages_ , _pretty please be my boyfriend’?_ ”

Daichi’s heart is about to beat out of his chest. “Wait, you _what_?”

Time seems to stop as Kuroo buries his face in his hands, mortified, and even Bokuto is silent for a few moments.

“… _bro_ , are in you in bed with Sawamura? You _are, holy shi_ \- _Akaashi! Kuroo’s in bed with Sawamura!!_ “

“Jesus, Bokuto shut the fuck up!” Kuroo finally regroups himself and snatches the phone, switching it off speaker phone. “No, I did _not_ tell him yet. No- _no_. Absolutely not. No! If you try, I swear to god I will shave your horns while you sleep. Don’t test me. Fine. Okay. _I’ll call you later_.”

Seconds tick by after Kuroo hangs up, Daichi openly staring at Kuroo, eyes wide and a little slack-jawed, and Kuroo staring at anywhere but Daichi, his face beet red. Daichi opens his mouth, still unsure of what to say, when Kuroo speaks first.  
  
“I’ve been in love with you and whining about it to everyone around me like a pathetic love sick kitty for ages, pretty please be my boyfriend?”

Laughter bubbles out of Daichi’s mouth before he can stop it and he may be laughing too hard to respond properly now, but as soon as he’s able his answer is sure to be a whack on the head for good measure, followed by an exasperated kiss and a resounding, long awaited _yes_.

**Author's Note:**

> me: write a PWP
> 
> also me: fill it with an absolutely excessive amount of pining and gross romantic thoughts
> 
> first time writing penetrative smut! i struggled. a lot. /sweats 
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](http://www.amaanogawa.tumblr.com)


End file.
